


Working Vacation

by Cinco



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, M/M, Take Your Fandom to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinco/pseuds/Cinco
Summary: Written for the Spideypool Prompt Bang 2018, #23:"Where's the blushing, awkward, virginal Spidey? Did the AO3 tag for us lie to me?""The what now?""Never mind, get back to being a top, I'm into it."





	Working Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> I thought Wade might enjoy a little R&R. Also, I used to work at a chain bookstore and sometimes I miss it.
> 
> Heaps of thanks to my betas, Pinester (challenge appointed) and trippingsin (volunteer emergency backup) who both dropped everything to beta this for me because I'm a disaster who leaves writing challenge fics until the last minute. Many thanks also to Wade Parker for organizing the challenge and giving me an excuse to write something!
> 
> There might at some point be a second chapter. Ideas on what you'd like to see happen would be appreciated!

Wade hit his get-outta-time-quick button as a last resort in a tight spot and found himself in a Take Your Fandom to Work AU. It was absolutely blissful, the perfect vacation from his usual mercenary and sometimes-do-gooder work. He was working in a bookstore as the Receiving manager (“nice sexy foreshadowing there, author"), and as an extra bonus he was only a little scarred on his hands and jaw and the boxes were either silent or nonexistent. The backstory-dump he'd gotten on arrival was something about a house fire when he'd been a teenager, then running away to Queens and working random jobs until a big new chain bookstore opened. He was in his mid-twenties and cancer-free, plus he had his fluffy blond hair back and was pretty damn good-looking even with the scars. He _also_ got to surf the internet from his room in a house share and drink half-priced lattes while reading on his breaks at work until his time gadget recharged (or maybe until he felt like using it). The only way things could have been better was if he'd been working in a Mexican restaurant and eating piles of free chimichangas every day.

Or so Wade had thought until his store manager, Stacey, came around to introduce their new assistant manager. Peter Parker was a tiny, attractive brunette with big anime eyes and a fancy first-day suit. Peter had grinned so wide that the Receiving's fluorescent lights shone off his teeth like a damn toothpaste commercial. He’d obviously noticed Wade’s scars but hadn’t reacted to them, and his handshake was firm and cool. He was absolutely adorable, and he was totally checking Wade out. Wade stage-winked at Peter and told him to “come up and see me sometime,” as Stacey started to guide Peter back out to the sales floor.

“Wade’s a real joker,” Stacey had explained to Peter, giving Wade her I’m-watching-you eyebrows; Wade’s gregariousness and outlandish sense of humor were why he was stuck all alone back in Receiving. Otherwise he would have been holding court at the Information Desk or making up new drinks in the Café while juggling fresh fruit, and everybody knew it. Plus Receiving paid more due to the need for heavy lifting, and in this timeline Wade was trying to move out of his Craigslist house share into a shoebox-sized place of his own.

Peter had looked over his shoulder as he walked out and returned Wade’s wink where Stacey couldn’t see him do it. _That one’s a firecracker_ , Wade had thought to himself.

*

Over the next week, Peter dropped by here and there as he learned the ropes. He’d already worked for the company for years as a lead bookseller and he’d already managed both Music and Café, but he told Wade he didn’t know that much about Receiving. Wade explained that there wasn’t much to know (“Stuff shows up, I unpack it and count it, and people come put it out on the floor”), but he explained every step in great detail just to keep Peter’s company a bit longer.

Wade had mentally upgraded him from adorable to gorgeous, partially because of his curly brown hair but mostly because he was both smart and funny, and best of all he seemed genuinely interested in Wade. Once he’d brought Wade a Frappuccino. He said it was free because he’d never made that kind before and had done something a little wrong, but it tasted good. And Wade definitely caught Peter ogling his arms while he lifted boxes of the latest future-bestseller mystery hardback off their pallet (Wade had, of course, posed for him like a weightlifter and made a bunch of corny jokes about how light reading required a strong man).

By the end of the week, Wade was checking Peter’s schedule every morning. At least one of their two daily breaks had synced up on each of the last two days, and Wade realized he’d seen Peter at both. When was this guy going to ask him out already?

*

That day, it turned out. Wade was heating up his lunch in the break room microwave, humming "Vacation" by the Bangles, when Peter pulled up a seat at the table and started poking through his brown paper lunch bag.

“Very traditional,” Wade commented, nodding at the bag. “Did you snag that from an elementary school kid?”

Peter laughed. “I might as well have,” he said. “I live with my aunt because I’m saving up to go back to school for a Master’s degree. She still packs me the same lunches as she did when I was a kid—“ He unpacked the bag’s contents, displaying each for Wade like Vanna White: a diagonally-cut sandwich in a plastic baggie, a green apple, three sticks of string cheese, and another baggie of what looked like trail mix.

“Well, that’s freaking adorable,” Wade said, because he’d learned that if Stacey heard anyone curse they had to put a five-dollar bill into a swear jar in her office. The money was used for their quarterly pizza parties, but Wade didn’t care to contribute so he waited to swear until he hit the parking lot.

Peter smiled and bit into the first half of his sandwich, and before either of them could say anything else the microwave timer went off and Wade busied himself stirring his soup and taking it over to the table to sit beside Peter.

“Soup’s pretty traditional, too,” Peter said, nodding towards Wade’s lidded plastic bowl.

“Yup. I don’t cook because I live in a shared house and the kitchen is always a disaster, so I bring a lot of Campbell’s. Today, minestrone. Tomorrow, chicken with stars.”

Peter smiled and gave a little nod. “Hey, what do you like for dinner? Can I take you out sometime?” He gestured with a cheese stick in his hand, and it was so cute that Wade could practically see animated glitter sparkle all around him.

Wade paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, and realized first that they were alone in the break room, and second that Peter was a smooth son of a bitch. “I like Mexican,” he replied, and then put the spoon back on its intended trajectory.

Peter’s smile widened. “Perfect. You have tomorrow off, right? My shift ends at four. Can I pick you up at seven? I know a little place that's out of the way and has absolutely fantastic tamales.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wade said, as he stole one of Peter’s string cheese sticks just as Stacey stuck her head in the break room door.

“Peter, there you are,” she said, clearly frazzled. “I know it’s your break, but I have a little bit of an emergency—oh hey, Wade, thanks for all your help with the bargain section yesterday.” She disappeared again, which was normal for her.

Peter already had the hang of her style. “Guess I’d better go,” he said. “Do you want my apple?”

“Yes,” Wade answered, “But it looks like Stacey could probably use the blood sugar boost. Go be her best student.”

Peter nodded and followed her, the apple in one hand, forgetting his lunch entirely. Wade tucked the rest of it back into the fridge.

Peter came by Receiving less than a half hour later to get Wade’s address and to put his number in Wade's phone. Wade texted him a taco emoji.

*

Peter showed up at Wade’s five minutes early in a green clunker car, wearing a nice button-down shirt and dark jeans. Wade was glad he’d dressed about the same way; it looked like Peter had sit-down rather than take-out in mind. This guy was clearly not just in for a one-night stand, or maybe not only a one-night stand. Wade waved off some random commentary from his housemates on the couch about his fancy date and followed Peter back out to his car.

They made small talk about Wade’s housemates and their group TV nights while Peter started the car, and chatted about TV and movies until Peter parked outside a small restaurant Wade had never noticed before. It was dim and cozy inside, and the smell was unbelievable. Everything on the menu sounded fantastic, so they settled on sharing two entrees and an assortment of tamales. When the waitress arrived, Peter smoothly ordered everything they'd discussed, sounding like he’d been ordering for the pair of them for years.

The whole thing was perfect—the food was excellent (Peter was right, the tamales were incredible) and the company was better. Wade knew his heart eyes must have been visible from space as they chatted and laughed and even fed each other the occasional bite. They shared a slice of tres leches cake and made the same Lady and the Tramp joke when their forks clashed. Peter somehow paid the bill without Wade even noticing until the waitress brought back his card.

Peter held the door for Wade on the way out, and on the ride home they talked about Disney movies. Too soon, they were parked outside Wade’s house and had fallen into a comfortable silence.

Peter finally broke it. “I really like you, Wade.” He smiled and reached over the gearshift to put his hand on Wade’s knee. “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

_Look at this fucking Disney prince right here_ , Wade thought. “It wasn’t a difficult decision,” he said.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Peter replied, and his eyes sparkled. Sparkled! Wade might have been mad about it if he wasn’t so into it. “Look, I’m on board for whatever you want, whatever speed works for you, but if I’m not reading this all wrong—“

“Please come upstairs and see my etchings,” Wade said, letting him off the hook. “I want to hear the whole speech later, though, don’t get me wrong. And I hope we’re allowed to date since you’re sort-of-kind-of my boss—“

“Oh, yeah, I asked, it’s fine because we’re only one level different,” Peter broke in.

“—But I don’t really care,” Wade finished. He didn’t want to fuck things up for this timeline's Wade whenever he used his time gadget to go back to his usual place in the multiverse—if that was even what happened. He’d never been very clear on how it worked. Anyway, that seemed like a green light, so he went ahead. “Great. You’ll get towed if you leave the car here without a resident pass, let me go get it. I’ll be right back.”

Peter started to unbuckle his seat belt and said, “Oh, I’ll go with you—“

“No, stay. I need to explain to my roommates so they don’t hoot at us like the monkeys they are when we come in together,” Wade said, rolling his eyes. “They’re terrible, but also bribeable.”

Wade multitasked by digging around in the junk drawer for the pass while making his pitch to his housemates. In exchange for acting normal and staying off his case about Peter, he’d do all the dishes for a whole week. It was a tough bargain, but worth it when he and Peter strolled in after the parking pass was in place. “Hey,” one housemate said, and the other two nodded. Dishes were apparently worth a significant amount of civil behavior, and Wade would have to remember this trick in the future.

Up in Wade’s tiny room, Peter got the full tour: “This is my bed, this is my closet, and we passed the bathroom on the way in,” Wade said. “That’s about it.” He gestured around the small room grandly, and Peter took in his full bed, random stuff on the walls, and the overflowing (and optimistically named) closet.

“I love it, because my aunt does not live here,” Peter pronounced, and Wade laughed and tugged his hand so that they were sitting on the edge of the bed, facing each other. Peter took his other hand and looked at him seriously. “Can I kiss you?”

“You are the absolute cutest,” Wade replied, and leaned forward to meet him.

The kiss was perfect, and then it turned even better because it got heated almost right away. Peter was a great kisser in addition to being the sweetest cinnamon roll of all time. Going back to his own timeline was going to suck out loud after this excellent vacation in the calmest, most sedate New York Wade had ever visited, but he was determined to enjoy every minute of it until it was time to go back. Specifically every minute with Peter.

Peter seemed on board, too. He tipped Wade over backwards on the bed and settled over him, his leg over one of Wade’s. They made out for long moments, totally PG-13, with Peter’s hands in Wade’s hair and Wade exploring Peter’s surprisingly muscled shoulders through his cotton shirt.

“If you wanted to speed this up, I would be okay with it,” Wade said, grinding up against Peter.

“Nope,” Peter said, using one hand to push Wade’s hips down. “Trust me, I have a whole plan worked out.” He kissed the side of Wade’s mouth and then over to his earlobe, and then bit a line down his neck as Wade gasped. “I guess we could progress just a little, though.” He had sharp little teeth when he wanted to use them.

“Yes please,” Wade said, and moved one hand into the hair at the back of Peter’s neck as Peter moved down to kiss at his collarbone, pulling his shirt away at the neck. "Where's the blushing, awkward, virginal Spidey?” he asked. “Did our AO3 pairing tag lie to me?" Wade turned his head to give Peter better access and rolled his hips up again just to be a brat.

Peter was unbuttoning Wade’s shirt using one hand and his mouth, totally distracted; his other hand was still holding Wade’s hip. "The what now?"

Peter’s prowess with shirt buttons was impressive to watch, so Wade did. "Never mind, get back to being a top. I'm into it."

Peter got the last button and pulled back to grin at Wade. What a show-off. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. I think you’re going to like the plan a whole lot. How do you feel about maybe putting your arms up?”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “You mean so you can hold them there? You’re right, I feel really, really good about it.” He slowly moved one arm after the other over his head, just above his pillow, one wrist over the other, broadcasting “bring it” as clearly as he could.

Peter kissed him deeply and said, “I trust you to hold them there for me.”

Wade shuddered luxuriously. Best. Vacation. Ever.


End file.
